


A Knight to Remember

by TheDweeb



Series: FFXIVWrite2018 [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: AND IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, Canon Compliant, Character Death, M/M, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2018, WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 09:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18962794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDweeb/pseuds/TheDweeb
Summary: A knight lived to serve, yet what better reason to die than for love?





	A Knight to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 12 for FFXIVWrite2018

When the sword had been laid on his shoulders as a young man he had been elated. Perhaps he could not have the family he had wanted, but he had a place to belong and could make his father proud. After all, a knight was the pinnacle of what a man could be and a knight did all he could in service to kin and country. It was an honor, and he had thought then that nothing could bring him more pride than the accolade of knighthood. He had been proven wrong.

Years later, another touch to his shoulder had come unexpected. It was warm, tender, not the cold weight of a ceremonial weapon. It was a touch of friendship and a shy query that he had answered with a kiss stolen in secrecy.

He had long known he would never be married and so romance had been discarded in favor of forging lasting friendships. He had not stopped to consider that he could have both. After all, had his own father not proven that marriage and love were not synonymous? That his dearest friend whom he had come to love beyond that title was a man mattered little especially when the reason he would never have married was to stop him from producing children; a stipulation from his father’s late wife that allowed him to thrive while she lived. And though a knight’s word was his bond, and the contract still upheld even in Lady Fortemps’ death, he was in no danger of breaking his oath, so he found what he never thought he would have and held to it fast.

Between their respective duties he and his love had little time together, even when he came seeking asylum in Ishgard, but what time they did have was full of warmth and tenderness. He felt a fierce pride at being the one chosen by the man known as the Warrior of Light, moreso than he had felt the day he had attained knighthood, and even greater than his elation at being given command of Camp Dragonhead. That was why when he had seen the blinding light form in Ser Zephirin’s hand he knew what he had to do. After all, it was a knight’s duty to protect.

Time stilled as he struggled against the aetherial spear, but though his shield arm was strong steel could only withstand so much. The instrument that had protected him from fang and claw, sword and arrow, finally buckled and he felt his breath leave his body in a rush as the aether pierced him. It was a strange feeling, nothing at all like any weapon he had ever faced down, but he did not have long to linger on it as he hit the ground to the chorus of the horrified cries of his friends. One voice rang out above the others and drew a rueful grin across his face, but he had no regrets. His life would end as he thought it would, in service to his country. That he was able to protect the person most dear to him, the man who had shown him that dreams could come true, made his sacrifice all the more worthwhile.

“Oh, do not look at me so,” he said as he raised his hand. His smile was sweet and serene as Artevael grasped his hand as if he could keep him tethered to the world with only his grip.

The pain on Artevael’s face hurt more than his wound which was rapidly fading into numbness. Still, he kept the smile on his face and did all he could against the encroaching darkness to convey his emotions through it; joy at having met, love that sprang from their friendship, and pride in all that Artevael was and would accomplish in his stead. It was a paltry gift in comparison to all he had been given, and what he would leave behind, but it was all he had.

“A smile better suits a hero…”

He saw a flash of anguish tinged with anger in Artevael’s eyes and he knew his final request was selfish. That it was granted to him, a wobbly smile on the verge of collapse was more than he could have hoped for. With a final exhalation, he left the mortal coil to the sound of heralding trumpets as Artevael screamed his anguish heavensward.


End file.
